


Bound by Better or Worse

by wisp_of_a_spook



Series: Lucissa Kinktober 2020 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Femdom, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Light Bondage, Makeup Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, i have no idea what's going on anymore, idek guys, lucissa, lucissa kinktober 2020, this just got away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26897635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisp_of_a_spook/pseuds/wisp_of_a_spook
Summary: Lucius never asked for forgiveness. He had to earn it.Lucissa Kinktober 2020 day 8 prompt: handcuffed
Relationships: Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Series: Lucissa Kinktober 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951390
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Bound by Better or Worse

The fight was swift and bloody as it always was between Lucius and Narcissa. Cutting words wielded with a well-practiced skill, leaving scars deep. Lasting. Brutal.

Ever since then, the manor had been dead silent for days. Even the paintings didn’t dare utter a sound. And Narcissa was nowhere to be seen.

The echo of Lucius’s words hung heavy and thick with regret in the air. Haunting, bitter as a poltergeist.

_I’m bound to you out of duty and blood. Perhaps a dose of propriety as well. Never love._

Lucius closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He shrugged out of his cape, draped it on the hook by the door. He’d been wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.

Admitting that out loud...

Words had led him awry in the first place. Caused hurt he hadn’t intended to inflict. 

Now his damnable pride strangled any potential apology and left the remains of his words limp and insincere at his feet, like a creature’s corpse brought back from a hunt by his dogs.

Lucius knew from experience how insufferably long these stalemates could drag on and on and on. Never seeing each other, let alone exchanging conversation. Some fights lasted a day or two. Others lasted weeks. How long would this remain, stifling and unwelcome?

As Lucius passed the dining room, he paused at the doorway. The long, black table sat empty, except for one place setting at the far end - his seat. 

It appeared to be yet another night alone.

Narcissa hadn’t slept in their bed since the fight either. At first, Lucius thought she’d left. Left their life. Their home. But no. The phantom scent of her rose perfume still permeated some rooms more than others. She was here. Denying Lucius her company.

Lucius bypassed the barren dining hall and headed to his study. He dropped into his chair, heedless of the Ministry parchments piled on his desk. The longer this fight went on, the harder it was to think clearly. To focus. 

To want anything besides Narcissa.

_Never love. Never love. Never love._

Lucius sighed. He picked up a parchment and attempted to read but the ink blurred to nothing of significance, a mass of black scribbles with no meaning. Restless and dissatisfied, he tossed the parchment back on the desk. He pushed out of his chair, striding out of the study and down the long, shadowed corridors of the manor.

He searched the house high and low - the sun room, the greenhouse, the owlery, even Draco’s room. Empty. The hollow staccato of his footsteps only served to echo his isolation.

Lucius rummaged around in the kitchen for a meager dinner. More out of habit than a need to appease his hunger that didn’t exist in the first place. But it took his mind off of the loneliness of the manor and the relentless memory of his words, bleeding all over his blasted conscience.

Then he smelled it.

Rose perfume. Subtle. Barely there, like the scent of rain evaporating in the searing sunlight. But getting stronger.

Lucius followed the scent, trailing after it down corridors and up stairwells like a wisp in an enchanted wood. When the scent was lost, drowned by his own decadent cologne and candle smoke, leather-bound tomes and silver polish, he backtracked until he recovered the roses again. As if he chased the promise of springtime after a long, cold and dreary winter, awash in toneless gray and white when warmth was just within reach.

He found Narcissa in the bedroom, seated at her vanity table. Brushing her hair with measured strokes, again and again. Even when Lucius hovered at the threshold, she didn’t cease her movements. Her back remained ramrod straight, clad in her nightgown with the high, black collar and the red lace at the sleeves, lending her the appearance of a woman who had ripped someone’s heart out with blood drenched up to her elbows.

Lucius cleared his throat. He didn’t know what to say. Six days - nearly seven - had passed since he’d last seen Narcissa. His previous words had been damaging, painful. He had no desire to repeat that mistake. Not when she was finally permitting him to be in the same room with her, rose perfume full and glorious and _close._

Narcissa’s gaze slowly slid up to meet Lucius’s eyes in the mirror. At last, she lowered her hairbrush and set it on the vanity’s counter. She folded her hands in her lap with a raised eyebrow, a clear look that said, _where do we go from here?_

Slowly, Lucius crossed the room. He came to stand behind Narcissa, holding her gaze as he approached. When he reached her chair, he dipped his head and pressed a lingering kiss to her shoulder.

Narcissa turned her head, her gaze lowered, but she didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything.

Perhaps they had said too much. For now, at least.

Lucius curved his palm against the back of Narcissa’s neck, his thumb nestled in the hollow behind her ear. Her skin was cool to the touch, her hair silky smooth, igniting his senses a hundred times over after being without her.

Lucius reached past her, retrieved her wand from the vanity counter and held it out to her. 

Narcissa considered it for a moment. For a heartbeat of dread, Lucius thought she might refuse and the tentative treaty they had reached in this moment might die in the span of his next breath.

Narcissa rose from her seat. For the first time in nearly a week, she turned to face him. She pointed her wand at the bed, though she cast no magic when she spoke.

“Sit.”

As Lucius took a step back, Narcissa moved forward. His heels hit the bed and he sank down to the mattress. He glanced up at her as she came closer, standing over him like a goddess with the ability to dole out hellfire or mercy in equal measure with that length of wand held so lightly in her grip.

When she pushed between his knees, he automatically reached for her. It had been so long - too long - since he held her, since he felt the slide of her skin against his or the gentle rise and fall of her breath as she slept beside him.

But Narcissa rapped his hand with her wand, hard enough to make his knuckles sting. She pressed her palm against his chest, pushing him down to the mattress. With a flick of her wrist, binding magic curled cold and smooth like steel around Lucius’s wrists. Silver ribbons materialized with neat, tight bows, pinning his arms to the bed. Entirely at Narcissa’s mercy.

“If you want my forgiveness,” Narcissa said, returning to her seat at the vanity. “You’ll have to earn it.”

For hours, she didn’t touch him. With one spell after another, Narcissa aroused him in one way or another - caressing his cock with phantom fingers, sucking on his neck with lips that didn’t exist. It was just enough to make him ache, to flex his hips off of the mattress, seeking more of the friction she doled out so sparingly. 

Lucius strained against the silver-ribboned spell to no avail. The more he squirmed, the harder Narcissa worked at him until his face was flushed and his breath came in short, labored gasps.

Finally, Narcissa climbed over him, knees planted into the mattress on either side of his hips. She unbuckled his pants, releasing his cock from the tight confines of the fabric. She dragged one knuckle along the throbbing shaft then back down again.

Lucius could see the hurt warring with desire in her eyes. She wanted him. She always had.

But his words had cut her down, burning doubt into her mind. 

“Narcissa, I - “ Lucius started but Narcissa placed two fingers against his lips and shook her head.

“I’m not ready to hear you speak again, Lucius,” she said. “Not yet. This...this was really the only thing we were good at anyway.”

Lucius kissed her fingertips to quell his knee-jerk instinct to argue. She slid her hand away from his mouth as she shifted, pulling her nightgown aside until she guided his cock inside her. As she sank down, she bowed her head, burying her face in Lucius’s neck. 

He flexed his fingers. Longing to hold her. To pull her close. To finally erase the absence he had endured for six whole days.

But this was his penance. 

Narcissa might forgive him. If she could spare her graciousness just once more, despite the countless times Lucius had taxed her reserves. If he said nothing and did her bidding while she lost herself in the pleasure he had robbed from them both.

When she kissed him, Lucius tasted the salt of her tears against his lips and the bittersweetness of her _I missed you,_ breathed as soft as a secret against the corner of his mouth. 

The silver ribbons cut into Lucius’s wrists now as every muscle in his body strained to sit up, to encircle Narcissa in his arms.

_Never love. Never love. Never love._

And yet this...this was all their own. Well beyond the realms of duty and honor and propriety. Not _love_ as defined in the words of everyone else, ascribed to sweethearts and engagements and marriages around the world.

It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t pretty, and most of the time, it was too painful to bear. But it didn’t waver or break. Scarred and damaged though it was, it held strong.

Narcissa cupped Lucius’s face in her hands, rolling her hips, taking his cock as deep as she could. Her fingertips trundled over his skin, rising and falling across ridges of muscles and tendons. 

She could make him hurt, the way Lucius had done to her. She could drive him into pain he couldn’t escape.

Instead, she kissed the curve of his neck and showed him gentleness no words could ever define.

When Narcissa came, Lucius watched as her head tipped back and her nightgown slipped off one shoulder, exposing pale skin and ghostly collarbones and the swell of a kissable breast. He didn’t care when she sagged against his chest, sticky and too-warm. He didn’t care that his own impending orgasm faded and dropped away entirely.

Her rose perfume was heady and sweet and _right there_. Strong. Present. Not distant, not faded. He welcomed the weight of her arm draped over his middle, the delicateness of her hand resting curved against his ribs after days of solitude.

Narcissa opened her eyes, her face mere inches away from his as she lay beside him. He sidled as close as he could with the ribbons still holding him in place until he nuzzled his nose against hers. For better or worse, they were bound together and in the end, he didn’t want it any other way.

“Narcissa,” Lucius said quietly. “Untie me.”

Narcissa tapped one finger against his chin. “I like you right where you are.”

He let out a small noise of frustration. “ _Narcissa_...”

She slid out of bed with a faint hum of laughter. Just as she walked from the room and out of sight, the silver ribbons at Lucius’s wrists fell away.

He was free. With the scent of rose perfume beckoning him deeper into the manor.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, lovelies! Feel free to leave a comment or drop by tumblr to say hi @wisp-of-a-spook!


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